Pollock
by hold the H
Summary: It was not uncommon for her to hear, “Dirty pollock,” several times a day, spat in that biting English accent that most Smiths and Bakers were the proud owners of. JackOC
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fic, so please be constructive and nice, si l'vous plait.

I don't own Jack. Unfortunately for both of us.

Natalia Maria Satkowiak. She went through alternating periods of love and hate for that name. It was so foreign, so different from the boring British names that surrounded her constantly on St. Thomas. It was not uncommon for her to hear, "Dirty pollock," several times a day, spat in that biting English accent that most Smiths and Bakers were the proud owners of. As if she were a rat that was somehow shipped across the sea, unwanted and disgusting, instead the daughter of the wealthiest family on the island. It was her name that led to this current predicament.

Natalia arrived in St. Thomas ten years ago, when she was only five, the result of her father, Ivan's, promotion in the East India Trading Company. It didn't take a lot to prompt him to take the job; a life in the Caribbean sun was infinitely preferable than war-torn Poland to raise a family in. He was a smart, honest, and above all, frugal man, which is an excellent combination for advancement in a company that only looks at the bottom line. Within 3 years, he was running the St. Thomas division of the company, had built his wife and only child a beautiful house, and developed an over-fondness for opium.

Natalia and her mother spoke absolutely no English when they arrived, relying on sign language to get them through the day. After a few months, however, Natalia was practically fluent, while her mother struggled with simple sentences. Natalia would have to translate constantly, drawing curses continually from servants and shopkeepers alike. By the end of her first year on St. Thomas, she knew every curse in the English language and some in Spanish, making her a queen amongst children.

Apparently, the ability to cuss is valued by kids in every corner of the world.

In fact, it was her filthy tongue that led her to Matthew.

Natalia remembered it very clearly; it was one of those life-changing events that imprints itself on your brain. She was twelve, and it was a humid April night. She remembered the temperature because she had to run outside to escape one of her father's intoxicated ramblings about the glory of capitalism, the greatness of Britain, and so on. It was always this way, until he had finished his next opium-cigar, and turned into a storm of anger against the underlying racist remark that so-and-so had said to him earlier in the day. His wife had the scars to remind her to just leave him be when he headed toward his study, and had already retired to her room.

She had run into the garden, her wide blue eyes searching for some shadow or bush to hide in before her father turned violent. She saw an overly ornate bench toward the back, near a fence, and dove for it, catching the hem of her dress on a bush next to it. She landed face first on grass, and let out an oath that would have made the staunchest man hide his head.

"Got a tongue in our head, do we miss?" said a voice behind Natalia. She whipped around swearing again,

"Who the hell is that?"

A boy of about her age emerged from the shadows with a hoe, clicking his tongue.

"Name's Matthew, Matt for short. You must be Miss Natalia," he said with an awkward mixture of awe and disdain.

"And may I ask how you know that?"

"I'm your governess's son. And even if I wasn't it wouldn't be hard to figure," he replied smoothly.

"And how's that?" she asked, keeping her ears cocked for any approaching footsteps. She was well aware that this boy was below her station, but honestly, she didn't care. Everyone outside this house treated Natalia like well-born garbage, and even most of the servants inside it treated her with barely concealed impudence. The combination of being the daughter of an addict father, wealthy, and foreign did not make for loving servants. She was beginning to realize that stations didn't matter so much, even though her mother was always whispering in Polish, "_My jestesmy lepzy niz one_."

Plus, this boy was being nice to her.

"Well, the accent for one. That's the oddest mixture of Ruskie and Brit. Not ugly though. The fact that you swear like a sailor and your dress is of the highest quality cloth. And your eyes."

That threw her. "My eyes?"

"No way a British girl has such clear blue eyes."

Internally flattered, she replied, "And you know this because of your vast familiarity with British girls, eh? How old are you anyways?"

"Sarcasm and a fiery tongue? Me ma wasn't lying. I'm twelve and a half." He looked at her and asked, "May I ask what a lady like yourself is doing out here so la-", he stopped short when Natalia threw herself face down on the grass and huddled behind the bush. Seconds later, her father came out of the double glass doors calling, "Nat! Nat-tal, Natalia! Where are you my _mały dziewczyna_?"

Matt looked down quickly and Natalia shook her head violently.

He pretended to be working with the hoe and said nonchalantly, "I think I saw her head to the west end of the house, guv. Better hurry, she was movin' quite fast."

He yelled something incoherent, saluted, and stumbled off in that direction.

"He's gone, miss. And if you don't mind, why're you hiding from him?" he said, crouching down to her eye level.

"He's already had two opi-, I mean, he's not feeling well. I don't want him to get me sick," she replied, conscious of the fact that her father's opium addiction could squander what little reputation they had.

" 'Couse he is, miss, 'course he is," he said knowingly, and helped her up.

"Thanks for that," she said smiling, "and can I ask what you're doing in the garden so late?"

"Had to sneak out to get the news. A merchant ship just docked, and I wanted to see if my father was on it," speaking like sneaking out was an everyday matter, which instantly made Natalia like him more.

"Your father's a sailor? Wouldn't you know what boat he's on, then?" Natalia said; glad to have something slightly in common with him.

His eyes darkened but he said, normally as ever, "His ship's over a month late. But it's okay, he had to go all the way to England and back. I'm sure he just got delayed." He didn't seem convinced.

"I'm sorry," Natalia said, very uncomfortable. It was hard to say the right thing in situations like this, and she didn't want to offend Matt, who was speaking civilly, even friendly, to her.

An uncomfortable silence followed, and when Matt started to say his good-byes, the question that she had been holding in burst out,

"Will you take me with you when you sneak out again?"

That caught him off-guard, and he looked at Natalia like he was seeing her for the first time. "Take you with me, eh? And why should I do that?"

Natalia was ecstatic that he was even considering it, and she launched into a rant that had been building inside her for some time,

"I have got to escape this house. I dress in eighteen different layers to just have tea, and then strip it all off and put on a different eighteen layers for dinner. I have to walk, curtsy, and speak in a certain way, until I want to lie in bed and scream as loud as I possibly can. I'm tired of being treated as second class for being Polish, and I've pricked my finger with that damn sewing needle about seven hundred times, and-," He stopped me before I could get any further.

"All right, all right. I'll take you. You'll need different clothes though. I think I have some old stuff that might fit you…."


	2. Chapter 2

Natalia looked out her dressing room window and smiled briefly, recalling Matt's unquenchable cheerfulness, even when talking about his father. It had been 3 years, and they had eventually reached an unspoken agreement not to mention his fate. Their friendship had grown fast, bringing the kind of bond that only law-breaking and danger provides. She knew him, inside and out, and he knew her.

Turning to survey the room, she came face to face with her current problem: the incredibly expensive, incredibly unwanted wedding dress that lay in the chair next to her. Yards and yards of creamy white fabric flowed in all directions, looking like the ghost of Christmas future.

In truth, it _was _her future, if she stayed in St. Thomas for another 3 hours. She was to be Mrs. James Green, the wife of a fifty-year old minor official of the British government, at exactly seven o'clock. He was the first, and only, man to court Natalia, and it was impossible to tell what was more surprising to the community: the fact that he had made an offer to a "dirty foreign" girl thirty-five years his junior, or that her family accepted. Natalia wasn't surprised be either, however; her father had made it well known for years that she belonged to the first man who made a decent proposal.

Unfortunately for him, however, the ship _Saber_ was leaving at 6:30 bound for Tortuga, and Natalia intended to be on it.

So, she didn't complain when her maids squeezed her into the gown; she let them pin up her hair and giggle picturing her wedding night. In fact, Natalia was the epitome of servility, and when she asked for ten minutes alone to gather herself, the maids took pity on her, sensing that these were her last moments of freedom before being bound to a wheezing, old man until he died.

She waited for the click of the lock, and wasted no more time. It was already six.

She took the pins out of her hair, letting it fall in a cascade that went to her bosom. Dashing over to the far corner of the room, she extracted an old, battered carpetbag from an unused armoire, and ran to the mirror, shedding layers as she went. She got down to her corset, and was fumbling with the knots when she heard,

"Well, can't say I'm not enjoying this view, love."

Without turning around, she gasped, "Help me with this damn thing, Matt, I can't breathe."

A tall, brown-haired boy hopped down off the windowsill, and quickly undid the knots with well-practiced fingers.

"Apparently, you've had some previous experience," Natalia said, burying the hurt that had unexpectedly come up. She had no idea where _that _feeling had come from.

She could see his half-smile, illuminating his green eyes, in the mirror at that jab. The corset slid off.

"I'll take that as a compliment on my charm," he said, turning around to give her some privacy to change into breeches. She grabbed a crudely made half corset from the carpet bag, and with Matt's help, belted down her ever-expanding bosom.

"Jesus, Nat, this is hard. You're gonna have to get a bigger corset soon."

"Just shut up and pull. I don't want anything _slipping_ like it did that one time at the Mermaid. If that happens on a boat full of men…"

"Alright, alright, when are you gonna let that one go?" he asked.

"I'd imagine it'll be awhile," she said, slipping on her tunic and belting on her pistol and taking her cutlass in her hand. She moved to the window, gathered her hair, and with only the slightest hesitation, cut it, and watched it float away on the breeze. Slipping off her engagement ring, she put it in her pocket, and grabbed some of her wedding jewelry, and threw it in her bag. She jammed a tri-cornered hat on her head, and spun around to present herself. The entire operation had only taken six minutes.

"Do I pass?"

"You look like a very girly boy."

"Tell people I'm a eunuch."

"Well, ok, but they're gonna wonder about me."

"Well, you've got the goods to prove you're not. So. Let's go." And with that, she hopped out the window, Matt close behind, with a grin on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

The six day voyage to Tortuga was uneventful, and the combination of boredom and mounting apprehension made Natalia practically fly to the deck when someone yelled, "Land, ho!" As she skidded to a stop at the deck railing, she got her first glance of the notorious island.

The first thing she saw was a grungy man with a whore in each arm, and a bottle of rum in his hand, strolling along the road next to the dock. The women were wearing dresses that barely covered their breasts, and the man was so drunk that he was in serious danger of falling into the harbor.

She loved the place immediately.

Turning, she saw Matt right behind her, probably ogling the prostitutes. Once again, that hurt feeling came over her, and with no small effort, she forced it down and said, "If you'd stop staring at the hired vaginas, we need to figure out a plan."

As she expected, the bluntness of her statement shook him out of his staring, and he grinned at her.

"Yes, we need a place to stay and food. And jobs probably. Those wedding jewels you nicked-"

"Excuse me, I didn't _nick_ them. They belonged to me."

"Whatever. Those jewels that you rightfully took, then, won't last us forever. I could probably work on the docks, and you could make _excellent_ money as a," he stopped as his grin widened, "…lady of the night."

"I'll take that as a compliment. At least I wouldn't be a cheap strumpet."

She smirked as his face went through several shades of red, and said, "Calm down, Matt. I was joking. I'll get work as a barmaid or something." She turned to get her bag as he said, "Then you'll have to go buy a dress and all that nonsense. How about I secure some rooms while you do all that? We'll meet back at the dock at 4 o'clock, alright?"

She gave him a sarcastic salute and walked down the gangplank and turned onto the first street she saw.

As she walked down the street, looking for a shop where she could pawn her jewelry, she reveled in the freedom that she had so easily acquired. If she knew how easy escaping St. Thomas would be, she would've done it years ago. She scratched under her arm and spat just for the hell of it.

Finally, after passing more brothels, pirates, drunks, prostitutes and pubs than she had ever seen in her life, she found a row of shops selling things besides liquor and women. She went into the most respectable looking shop and plopped her carpet bag on the counter. An old Asian man came out of the back room and introduced himself.

"Mr. Shin is the name, sir, and what we got here?"

Natalia wondered why he had called her "sir", and opened her mouth to correct the _obviously_ blind man, but quickly remembered that she still had her breeches and tunic on. Trying not to feel like a total idiot, Natalia turned the carpet bag upside down, and watched as Mr. Shin's eyes go as big as saucers. She glanced down at the treasure trove, realizing for the first time how much she had actually taken. There were four large gold bracelets, a dazzling emerald and sapphire necklace, her ornate 4 carat diamond and pearl engagement ring, a pair of tangled silver and ruby earrings, and a few other miscellaneous trinkets.

As Mr. Shin extended a shaking hand to examine the pieces, Natalia looked more closely and saw a simple diamond ring under all the decadence. With a shock, she realized that she had accidentally taken her mother's wedding ring. Horrified, she quickly took it off the table and slipped it in her pocket.

This sudden movement seemed to shake Mr. Shin out of his daze, and said, "I cannot take all at once, it is bad business. I buy the ring for 300 pounds; you come back in a week or two." Natalia, feeling dizzy and not in the mood to haggle, nodded and gathered up the rest of the jewelry, dumped it unceremoniously in her bag, and left as quickly as she came.

Once outside again, she began to regain her composure. She stuck her hand in her pocket to reassure herself that the ring was there, and began to walk in the general direction of the dress shop. Feeling the cold metal of the ring, she couldn't believe that she had taken one of the only happy reminders of her parents' marriage with her to _pawn_. Disgusted with herself, she entered the shop.

Three hours later, she left the shop feeling a lot better, dressed in a (somewhat) scandalous brown dress, new petticoat and corset, with another red dress and her men's clothes, pistol, and cutlass in her bag. She went next door to the weaponry shop and bought two small knives for each of her new boots, and a small chain that she threaded with her mother's ring and clasped it around her neck. As she walked out, she could almost hear her mother whispering one of her favorite proverbs, "Wherever you go, you cannot leave yourself behind." Keeping her mother's ring reminded her of the good times she had with her family, however few they might be.

Natalia caught her reflection in a shop window as she walked back toward the harbor, and was surprised to see that she looked _good._ Admitably, her hair was a little off, but thankfully it was growing quickly and would touch her shoulders in another day or two.

Sensing that she was already late for her rendezvous with Matt, she hurriedly walked down an alley that she thought would take her back to one of the main roads, where she could find her way to the dock. Halfway down the alley, however, she was distracted by a weird snuffing sound ahead and off to her right. Natalia sped up to see what was causing it, and she saw the shape of a woman half crawling, half walking, toward the door of one of the more rundown houses.

Calling out, "Miss? Miss, are you alright?" Natalia ran to her side and dropped to the ground. Unprepared for what she saw, she swore horribly in both Polish and English.

The woman's face was covered in bruises, cuts, and lumps so severe that you could barely tell that it was a face at all. Still swearing heavily, Natalia picked up the woman. As she brought her into the light, she saw that it wasn't a woman at all, maybe a teen a few years older than herself. She also saw that the bruising and lacerations continued all over her chest and arms. Natalia also noticed that she wasn't that heavy, in fact, she was nothing more than skin and bones stuffed into a whore's outfit.

Having no idea what to do, she ran to the end of the alley, and onto the main street with the girl still held in her arms. Adrenaline pumping, Natalia sprinted down the crowded street as best she could to a clinic that she had seen on her earlier stroll through town. She banged on the door, screaming for help the whole time entirely in Polish without even realizing it.

The doctor opened the door calmly after a few minutes of frantic pounding, and Natalia quickly explained what had happened. He swiftly took the girl into his arms and laid her on the examining table, calling to his assistant for bandages and antiseptic. Natalia was shaking from effort of carrying the beaten girl and sat down on the nearest chair, clenching her mother's ring around her neck. She glanced down at her other hand, saw that she had somehow managed to hold onto her shopping bag the entire time, let out a chuckle, and promptly passed out.


	4. Chapter 4

Coming back to consciousness with a start, Natalia grabbed the hand that had been hitting her across the face,stood, and twisted it behind its owner's back.

"Jesus Nat! Let go of me!"

She immediately released, panting, "God, Matt. Why the hell were you hitting me?" She glanced around the room and saw she was still in the doctor's office. She was struck by how dirty it was. "And how did you know where I was?"

Matt pushed the hair out of his face, sat himself in the chair that she had just vacated, and started to explain, "You were late. Which wasn't surprising," Natalia rolled her eyes as Matt gave her his trademark grin, "but, we _are_ in a new place, so after ten minutes I went to look for you. I turned onto the first street, and the first thing I see is a pretty girl in a brown dress running with a bloody prostitute in her arms, screaming in Polish."

"And you automatically assume it's me?" _Did he say I'm pretty?_

He gave her a sarcastic look, and continued. "I ran after you, but you disappeared into a building long before I caught up with you. I knocked on the door, but that was taking too long, so I found an open window and came in-"

Natalia interrupted. "Breaking and entering? We haven't been here a whole day and you've already broken the law."

"Will you let me finish? Anyways, I came in and saw you passed out on the very chair my ass is now in, and the prostitute on the table all bandaged up. No doctor in sight."

Turning quickly, she saw the reason she was here. She walked to the prostitute's side and examined her injuries. They didn't look as bad as she first thought, but it was still horrific. It looked as if she wouldn't have any permanent damage, however. She felt Matt come next to her. Still gazing at the girl, she said, "That doesn't explain why you were hitting me."

"I got tired of waiting for you to wake up." She turned and saw that he too was gazing at the girl. His green eyes looked sad.

"How long did you wait?" _I must have been out longer than I-_

"About five minutes," he said quietly.

In spite of the circumstances, she laughed. "I didn't know you were so impa-" Natalia stopped short as the girl's eyes started to open.

"Matt, out. Now"

"Why?"

"This girl was almost beaten to death by a man. Do you think she wants to see another man when she first wakes up? Get out!"

He tripped over the chair in his hurry to leave. Turning back to the girl, she saw that her eyes were open and shrewd.

"Your man?" she asked in a heavy Cockney accent.

"No, no. Just a friend," Natalia said, grabbing the chair and sitting in it so they would be at the same eye level."

"I don' think so. I kno' when a man wants a woman. I make a livin' on it."

Natalia smiled sadly. Getting straight to the point, she questioned, "Do you know who did this to you? Because-"

"Just a john. He couldn' get it up, an' I guess he thought I was the problem," she interrupted shortly.

Trying to keep the anger out of her voice, she switched tracks. "What's your name?"

"Sally. An' you?"

"Natalia." _Natalia the pollock and Sally the prostitute. Has a nice ring to it. _

"I thought you were foreign. Russia?"

"Poland."

"I was close. How'd ya end up here?"

Natalia sighed and said, "That's a long story, and you need to sleep."

"I'll be fine." She looked around for the first time. "Where am I?"

"The doctor."

She sighed. "I don' know how much you think prostitues make, but I can' bloody afford this." Uncertainly, she swung herself around and tried to stand. Natalia forced her back down, saying,

"I don't think so. You're staying." Sally was too weak to argue. She closed her eyes. Talking was tiring.

Natalia could see that Sally was about to pass out. She reached inside her dress, and pulled out her remaining money.

"Sally. Stay awake for one more minute."

With an obvious effort, she forced her eyes open. Natalia grabbed her hand and forced the money in it. Sally looked down and her eyes widened.

"There's gotta be a 'undred pounds in 'ere!" she said weakly. She looked up, and words seemed to fail her. "Why?"

"Because everybody needs help sometimes," Natalia said simply..

Sally nodded, and fell back asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Natalia and Matt walked down the now familiar street in silence. He seemed to sense that she was in no mood to talk.

Natalia's mind was whirling. Pictures of Sally chased themselves round and round, the violence of the attack drawing a vague sense of recognition and fear.

After a few minutes of fruitlessly searching her memory, she shook her head and dispelled the horrendous image of the beaten girl, saying,

"Where now?"

Matt looked at her for once with serious eyes.

"You don't want to tal-"

"No. Where are we going?"

Matt, bouncing back cheerfully, replied, "I got us some lodging in a boarding house by the harbor. Cheap and relatively clean. I _personally_ scoured your room for rats, Nat."

"I appreciate it," she said, only slightly sarcastically. Her fear of rats was as overwhelming as it was embarrassing. She could swordfight with the best, but every time she saw a rat, she had a fit and yelled obscenities in the highest, girliest scream imaginable. Matt, understandably, found this hilarious.

They reached the boarding house after another few minutes of walking. It was a squat affair, with grimy windows and peeling paint. The steps were rickety, at best, and Natalia was about to complain, when she realized that this was the kind of building her father wouldn't of set foot in. That made her suppress a smile and the complaint died unsaid.

They entered and were greeted by a man who she supposed was the owner. He was a short, balding man, of Spanish decent, if his accent was anything to go by. Everything about him screamed uncleanliness, from his dark, pockmarked face shining with the effort of doing nothing, right down to the tics that moved from sore to sore on his feet.

"Evening, miss and gentleman," he cooed sarcastically. "Welcome to my humble home. If you have any complaints about _anything_, the food, the rooms, etcetera," he paused to give them a nasty look, "feel free to get the fuck out."

If he had been looking to get a reaction out of them, he was sorely disappointed. Natalia rolled her eyes and Matt grinned slightly. They both used obscenities to frequently to care if their fat landlord cursed at them.

"What's the rent for the month?" Natalia asked in a bored voice.

"Five shillings a week. But," he paused here and looked Natalia up and down, "I want twenty percent of any business you conduct on my property."

"She's not a whore," Matt explained quickly.

"Well, if she's not, then you, _mi amigo, _are losing out on a fabulous profit margin. She's better than most. But if you like to keep your _puntas_ to yourself, that's your business." He eyed Natalia again, now with the look of a man who wants what he can't get. "I myself was -"

He was cut off by the rather debilitating roundhouse punch to the face. He fell to the floor, and looked around wildly, expecting another swing from Matt. Matt, however, was standing quietly by the door in the same stance he had been in.

A woman's voice hissed in his ear while a corresponding pressure came down on his throat,

"Listen, _tu pedazo de mierda_, if I ever, _ever_, hear you talk to me that way again, those bugs making their way into your rolls of lard will have to find a new home. _Comprende, senor?"_

The fat man's eye's bulged, and he grunted something that she took to be an affirmative.

"Good. Now, my friend and I are going out. You have until we get back to arrange the best rooms available in this shit heap for us and change your attitude from fat _pendejo_ to gentleman concierge."

She released him and he stood, massaging his throat and giving what he thought was an intimidating look. Natalia headed to the door, reached it, and turned and flicked her wrist faster than the eye could follow it. One of her two hidden knives landed less than an inch from the landlord's right ear and imbedded itself into the wood.

"So you don't forget."

The door banged shut behind them, and they didn't hear the quiet laughter that followed the escapade from the adjoining room.

After they left, a man with heavy eyeliner and dreadlocks sauntered his way out of the back room. The fat landlord looked up, saw him, and said,

"Please God, Jack; tell me you didn't see that."

"Mmmm, now, I could tell you that, but I've always been one for the truth, eh?"

Matt and Natalia had reached the street, when Matt stopped and looked at her.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

"Rum?"

"Please."


	6. Chapter 6

Reviews, por favor!

The Penguin's Flight was and the type of inn common to Tortuga. It didn't go much in the way of décor, its attraction wasn't the ambiance; it was to get drunk and find a girl to spend the night with. What wasn't common was that it was owned by a woman, a Miss Stephanie Griffin, famous for her large bosom and short temper.

Natalia and Matt were had been drinking steadily for about two hours. Natalia was notoriously good at making up drinking games, and her current one was a doozy. Every time she was asked how much her services were, she had to drain her glass, and every time Matt was propositioned by a hooker, he had to drain his glass.

Unfortunately, she hadn't realized that there were many more horny men than prostitutes, and she was about eight glasses up on Matt.

"Matt, zat last girl was pretty deshent. I think, you know what I think? I think you should have shex tonight. Płeć jest dobra.." It had gotten to the point where she kept switching from Polish to English without realizing.

"What was that last one? I don't fucking shpeak Polish."

"I was shpeaking English. Listen! I said 'Sex is good," her voice rising. "Yeah, that's what…," she stopped and stared off into the distance.

Matt clanked his glass on the bar, and her attention snapped back to him.

"Yesh, you need to get a girl. Maybe Mish Stephnaie? Her breasts are.." She squinted at him and tried to mime what she couldn't find words for.

"Enormous?" Matt supplied the word.

"YESH! That was good. How did you know what I was going to say?"

"I'm psychic."

"Really? Ok, what am I thinking right now?"

Matt stared into her eyes for a moment and said, "You're thinking that you want more rum."

"Holy shit," she whispered in wonder. "Why didn't you tell me that you were psychic before? We could of made sho much money in the circush…", and she was off, describing their life on the road with the giraffes and acrobats and what their stage names would be.

Matt cut her off in the middle of the description of the pet walrus she would teach rescue shipwrecked sailors.

"Nat."

"What?"

"You're drunk."

She closed her eyes as if to take a metal tally, and then said, "You're absolutely right. But guess what?"

"What?"

"You'll be the one with the hangover tomorrow." And then she laughed so hard, she fell right off her stool.

"Yes, yes, you have the amazing ability to drink yourself into a coma and wake up absolutely fine. Polish genes. So you've told me. Many times." And he helped her back on to the stool. She was still laughing uncontrollably.

Just then, a tanned man with dreadlocks and heavy eyeliner plopped down next to Natalia. Miss Stephanie rushed over.

"Jack Sparrow! How wonderful! Back with the Pearl, I hear?" she practically cooed.

"Back to see you love," he said with a hint of a smile.

"It'll be just a sec, I'm the only one working bar tonight, my girl Jules left on some ship this afternoon."

At this, Natalia turned her attention to Stephanie. "You need a new barmaid?" she said as soberly as she could muster.

Stephanie looked at her, all vestiges of warmth gone now that she wasn't talking to Jack. "Yeah. So?"

"Well, I need a job."

"Go romp for a few pennies. I don't hire weak girls like you."

"And what makes you think I'm weak? The fact that my breasts don't resemble mountains?"

At this, Matt and Jack winced, and sparks flew from Stephanie's eyes. Jack interrupted before Stephanie jumped the counter and tackled Natalia.

"Steph, love, this girl isn't weak. I saw her take down Francisco _and _curse at him in his own language. She has enough guts to talk that way to you. And how long has she been drinking here? About two hours, I heard-"

Nat's knife was in her hand and to Jack's throat before he could finish. She may be drunk, but her adrenaline was pumping and she knew what she had heard. She hissed in his ear, "Did my father send you? Tell me! How do you know this? Are you following us?"

Faster than she thought possible, Jack bent her arm back and under, and her knife dropped from her hand. She spun in and put all her centrifugal force into her elbow, crashing it into his face. His grip slackened and she took his momentary lapse to put her foot into his stomach. Jack fell, rolled and kicked her legs out from under her. Drawing his cutlass, he was on top of her, his blade inches away from her throat, and his face millimeters away from hers.

They stayed frozen in that position for several seconds. Then Natalia's head sprang up and kissed Jack full on the mouth. The blade slackened slightly from surprise, and as he kissed her back, she put her knee into his crotch, grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist, rolled out from under him, and forced his own cutlass to his throat.

"Who sent you?" she panted.

Jack grinned and said, "Give us another kiss, love, and I'll tell you."

She moved the blade closer to his neck and bent to his ear. "Or," she breathed, "You could tell me now." She moved the blade towards the waist of his pants.

Jack's eyes widened and said, "Well, as I see you mean business, I know you put Francisco on the floor because I was in the next room, attending to my own affairs. I know you were here for two hours because Layla," he nodded to a hooker by the wall, "told me that you two walked in about two hours ago, and all the men in the place went to you before her. Competition, love. She's not used to it." Only then did Natalia notice that the entire bar was watching the escapade with interest.

Satisfied enough with his explanation, Natalia stood up shakily. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the rum was back. The crowd had turned back to their drinks, now that the violence was over. "Fucking 'competition' got me drunk," she said under her breath. "Sorry, Jack, is it? Jack. Sorry." He stood up and winked at her.

"Not inconvenienced in the slightest, love."

She rolled her eyes. "Matt? MATT? There you are, where were you this whole time? Doesn't matter. Let'sh go." She was having trouble focusing on his face, the room seemed to spinning. "When did thish room decide to not shtay still? Ish there a button you push when you want it to confushe people? 'Cause .." That's as much as she got out before closing her eyes and hitting the floor with a thunk that resounded around the room.

Matt bent down hastily and scooped her up before any of the men could see that she was passed out and start to get ideas. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake. Matt looked down at her with pity and humor in his eyes. He made it to the door, when he heard, "Hey! Girl!"

Matt turned and saw Stephanie calling from the bar. Natalia cracked an eye and looked in her general direction.

"Be here tomorrow by 6 PM, ready to work."

She closed her eyes again, but before she slipped back into unconsciousness, she could have sworn that Jack winked at her and gave her a trademark grin, as if everything had gone exactly according to plan.


End file.
